The Starving Ones
by MarianasTrench
Summary: Ya know, if someone told me six months ago that there would be a zombie apocalypse, and I would be broken down in the middle of a Georgian wasteland with only my twin brother, I would've had them institutionalized. But whadda ya know? Daryl/OC
1. Chapter 1

The Starving Ones

CHAPTER 1: Just Call Me Taz

Ya know, if someone told me six months ago that there would be a zombie apocalypse, and I would be broken down in the middle of a Georgian wasteland with only my twin brother, I would've had them institutionalized. But whadda ya know? Here I am, standing in front of my old Ford 4x4, with my lovely twin seated in the passenger seat and dead people are indeed walking.

I poked around under the hood of my old junker, but I had no clue what I was doing. Fuck my life. I knew this would happen. My truck would break down, but instead of a back-road as I had predicted, it was on the side of a once very busy interstate. And we were royally fucked.

That was until I heard a car alarm, and it was getting closer. Only moments later, an Asian boy flew past us in a red and black striped Camaro, alarm blaring the whole way. Probably attracting a great big horde of stiffs, too. Shit.

"Hey Taz...did I just see what I think I saw?" Till asked from the cab.

I was awestruck. That was until I saw what appeared to be a moving van coming toward us. I ran around to the side of the truck that was facing the road and flung my arms above me like a madwoman.

Then felt like an idiot as the people occupying said van flew right past us. Till sighed and stared woefully out of the backglass. I simply turned back around and walked back to the front of my truck with tears pricking at my eyes. I wasn't usually one to cry much, but I had nothing left. My twin and I were slowly starving to death from lack of food and we had just downed our last bit of water. Those people in that van...they were that one last burst of light before the bulb blows.

I slid down to the ground, ready to bawl my eyes out, when I heard a cry of joy from the cab.

"Taz! Look! They turned around! They turned back around!"

I scrambled back to my feet and practically flew back around the truck. And, man, was I greeted with a pleasant sight. The van was heading right in our direction. I found myself letting out an echo of my brother's cry.

Till barreled out of the cab and with tears in his eyes, grabbed my shoulders, "Taz! Its people! Real, live, human, non-flesh eating people!"

I let out a joyous laugh and hugged my brother as tight as I could. We would live. And for the first time since the beginning this apocalypse ordeal, I felt hope.

The van didn't take long to reach us, and as soon as it did, the door was flung open and man in a tan police uniform was rounding the front. I heard the back of the van slide open and three more people came our way.

"You people haven't been bit, have you?" The officer inquired hesitantly.

I shook my head frantically, and Till answered with, "No, sir,"

One of the other van inhabitants cleared their throat.

I turned my head to see a fair haired woman who looked to be in her late twenties to early thirties standing to the left of the officer.

She stepped forward and held her hand out, "My name's Andrea, and you look like you need help,"

"Heh, do we really look that bad?" I mean really, it couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Hun, you look like hell."

Hm, guess it was...

"Listen, we don't have much left and my truck is officially out of commission...this maybe a bit out of line, but can you please help us? We've got weapons, and ammo. Just help us, please?" I was begging now.

I would've been fine if it were only me, but I had my brother to think about. My brother was in worse shape than I, and I couldn't survive without him. They had to take us, even if it meant giving up everything. My twin had to survive.

"You swear you ain't bit?" Spoke up a rather large black man.

"I swear, sir. Just tired and hungry." Till said.

Andrea looked at me, and said two words that would save my brother and I, "Get in,"

My brother's dirty, exhausted face broke out in to a grin that stretched ear to ear, and I probably looked the same way. Till and I turned back to my Ford and yanked open the door, grabbing the guns, ammunition, and our duffel bags.

Swiftly, we made our way back to the van and threw our stuff in the back, and clambered in ourselves. Officer Friendly and the rest of his merry crew had already made themselves comfortable. The rumble of the van sounded like the song of angels, and as it lurched forward, all I could think was, _I sure hope they don't kill us._

..!..

Well, they didn't kill us, but they sure as hell signed someone else's death warrant. And his brother was going to be pissed.

We had, naturally, conversed with our fellow van dwellers. We learned their names, where we were going, and who the Asian was that sped past in a Camaro. Then they informed me of why.

Then I heard about Merle. I was not amused. Yes he sounded like a Grade-A asshole, but I had seen what exposure can do to people and no one should have to go through that. And now his brother, Daryl, was going to go apeshit.

Needless to say, Officer Friendly and T-Dog were no longer my favorite people.

We pulled into a rock quarry about thirty minutes after leaving my truck, and we all bailed out.

Then there was this really weird moment when Officer Friendly, also known as Rick, was reunited with his wife and son who had thought he was dead. Most found that touching, I found it much like a soap opera. Touching, but very unlikely. Then again we were in the middle of a zombie apocalypse...

Anyway! Then we all sat around a campfire and ate canned beans as Officer Friendly regaled us with tales of his trials and his wife, dubbed Mrs. Officer Friendly, latched on to him for dear life. Can't say I blame the woman.

Till had played social butterfly, "By the way, my name's Till, and the little lady here is my twin sister,"

That started the flood. I learned that Mrs. Officer Friendly was actually named Lori, and their son's name was Carl. Then there was the group from the van, the Morales family, Ed and Carol with their daughter Sophia, Andrea's sister Amy, Shane Walsh, Dale, Jim, and Glenn the Asian Camaro driving pizza boy. Then they all looked to me.

I cleared my throat and shuffled nervously, I fucking despised my name...

"Just call me Taz,"

And then no more was said. That was until Glenn spoke up.

"Is that a nickname?"

I growled, "No,"

Till scratched the back of his head, and gave them the crooked smile that could charm the pants off of anyone, "Mother thought it sounded cute. Taz and Till? Personally, I think it fits her, but Tazzy here doesn't quite think so,"

"Shut up, Till,"

"Come on, Tazzy, it isn't that bad!" Now, he was trying to get a rise out of me.

"Then, you go by it,"

"Nah, I rather like my name," he grinned.

I just rolled my eyes and walked away. I wasn't a fan of groups. Too many people, way too many. And now we were living with them. Magical. Don't get me wrong, I was grateful, but I'm just not a real big people person. Till got all the social genes, I guess.

I heard footsteps coming up behind me, I whipped around with a bowie knife at the ready, only to see Till.

"Taz? Did I really make you mad?" He sounded a bit remorseful.

"Nah, Till, just still can't acquire a taste for groups. That just gave me a bit of an escape," I consoled him.

I turned back around and stared out at the lake. I had to admit, with the moon setting just the way it was, it was beautiful. It cast a silver gleam over the lake, and the slight breeze made it ripple in an almost hypnotic way. There wasn't much left in this world that you could say was beautiful, but right here, right now, that didn't matter. I was reveling in the small bit of stability that Till and I had recently received.

Yet, there was still that nagging in the back of my head, and it was for a man I didn't even know. That man, that _survivor_, they left on the roof. Who were they to choose who lived? They were not gods, just survivors. And they were more like the man they left on that roof than they cared to admit. I sighed, and took solace in the fact that if his brother wished to retrieve him, I would accompany him.

..!...

A/N: Well, if you're reading this, one can only assume you read the chapter above. The question is, did you like it? Another thing I wish to address is the change in good ol' Tazzy's character. I realize she kind of has a bit of a character switch when they get back to camp, but I think if I was starving to death and my twin's life was at risk I'd be a bit out of character. But, if you like it Alert, Review, and all that wonderful stuff. (Secretly, I also enjoy Flames, but don't tell anyone xD) Critique is also welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2: REDNECKS, AND CROSSBOWS, AND WALKERS! OH MY!

Warning: I changed the storyline a bit. Took some out, and added some. No longer follows script.

I hadn't slept much that night and at the first signs of sunlight, I was up and at 'em. I waltzed my way down to the lake that I had admired only hours before, with soap and clean clothes in hand. Quickly, I stripped out of my jeans and tattered, once white, tank-top. Then, slowly, but surely I made my way into the lukewarm water and began bathing. I had finished up before the sun had truly risen, and made the trek back up to the primitive fire pit.

Lori was already up and building the fire.

"'Morning Taz,"

I simply nodded my greeting and returned to the makeshift tent in which my brother, Glenn, and I had rested. I unzipped the tent and gingerly made my way past my twin's long, sleeping form. It appeared as if Glenn was already awake and roaming around the camp somewhere. I placed my soiled clothes on my wrinkled sleeping bag, and turned around to wake my snoozing brother. I took one look at him, and couldn't do it. I couldn't wake him up from the first real sleep he'd had in months.

His face was relaxed, and one could see the man that he was before all this happened. His wavy auburn hair was fanned out on the nylon of his sleeping bag, and his face was dusted with hairs from lack of shaving. And I knew, under those sleeping lids rested deep hazel eyes that matched my own and had once broke the hearts of women everywhere. He was the heartbreaking, carefree, man that never wanted to grow old. Then, we were slapped in the face with something out of a horror movie, and we had to wise up or die. You can guess what we did.

I gave him one last look, then exited the tent. I'd do both of our "chores" until he woke up. He needed the rest. I took a seat at the fire pit, as far away from the rest as I could get. Yet, they still felt like they had to "make me feel welcome". That was the last thing I wanted.

I just wanted to sit here, with my bit of rations, and think.

"Taz, I was wondering...where are you and Till originally from? I mean you're accents, I can't place them. They sound kinda Southern, but...not." Lori inquired.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, "We were born in Tulsa, but raised in New Orleans,"

Lori nodded and looked away, and I took that moment to retreat. I made my way back to the tent I shared with the boys and retrieved the only thing I had a remotely sizable amount of. Cigarettes, The only thing I could indulge in anymore.

Till shifted in his sleep before opening his eyes, sitting up, and rubbing his face. "What's up, sunshine?" I said with a smirk.

He just rolled his eyes and preceded to prepare for the day ahead of him. That was until we heard a blood curdling scream. I snatched my knife out of the sheath on my leg and ran toward the scream.

When I arrived, I saw a stiff munching on the neck of a dear with two arrows in its side. I was a little taken aback by this. They had said there weren't any walkers out here! I went to lung at the head of the undead fuck, but an axe came down on its neck before I could. I looked up and saw Dale holding the bloodied weapon.

"Fuckin' hell," I muttered. Crazy ol' fuck could've taken my head off!

Then I heard footsteps out of the woods and a man came out holding a crossbow. This man had to be Daryl. Now, is the point when I retreat, because I did not want to be around when this man found out about Merle. I made my way back to camp and went to sit next to Till at the fire pit, and just as I sat down and lit a cigarette, I heard yelling from the direction I had just came from.

"Merle! Merle get your ugly ass out here! Got some squirrel fer us to skin!" Cried Daryl.

Aw shit.

"Daryl, slow up a bit, I gotta talk to you," Shane called after him.

"'Bout what?" he growled and stopped in front of the fire pit. So Daryl wasn't a fan of Shane. Nor was I.

"It's about Merle.." he said, catching up, "There was a...problem. In Atlanta."

Daryl looked at the ground, face crestfallen, "He dead?"

Shane cleared his throat, "Uh, we aren't sure,"

Daryl's head snapped up and on his face was a visicious glare, "Either he is or he ain't!"

Que Officer Friendly, "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it,"

"Who the fuck are you?" Dixon demanded.

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes?" he said with a sneer, "You got somethin' you wanna tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all," Rick explained, "I handcuffed him to a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there,"

If looks could kill, Rick would be a goner, "Hold on, lemme process this. You saying, you _handcuffed_ my brother to a roof and _left him there?"_

Rick muttered his conformation.

To say Daryl snapped would be an understatement. He lunged at Rick, only to be tackled by Shane. Daryl whipped out his hunting knife and stood back up, and as he did, he struck out at Rick. Secretly, I hoped he'd nicked him. Unfortunately, he did not, and the two men jumped him simultaneously. Rick grabbed the knife and Shane got him in a choke hold.

"You best let me go!" His cry was strangled as Shane's arm constricted his neck.

Now I stood up, ready to assist Dixon, but Till pulled me down. Those two fucks were fighting dirty.

"I think its best if I don't," Shane retorted.

"Choke-holding's illegal," Daryl strained out.

"File a complaint, then," Shane said, "Come on, man, we can do this all day,"

Rick then knelt in front of Dixon, using the voice that all cops have, "I'd like to have a calm discussion, do you think you can handle that?"

I was fuming, these fucks wanted him to be calm?

Daryl didn't answer, so Rick repeated, "Can we manage that?"

"Hmm?" Shane tightened his grip for a moment, then released Daryl and let him drop to the ground. Shane was already standing up a bit farther behind him.

Rick stayed knelt down in front of Daryl, "What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not play well with others,"

"It wasn't Rick's fault," T-Dog spoke up from behind Rick, "I had the key, and I dropped it,"

Daryl snorted, "You couldn't pick it up?"

"It went down a drain,"

Daryl scoffed and stood up, "If that's supposed to make me feel better, it don't"

"Maybe this will," T-Dog said, "I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get 'im. I even padlocked it,"

"That's gotta count for something," Officer Friendly insisted.

"Just tell me where he is," Daryl said flatly, "So I can go get him,"

Rick nodded, "I'll come with you,"

T-Dog spoke up, "I will, too."

I sighed, "I'm coming with you,"

Daryl's head turned to me so quickly, I thought he might have gotten whiplash, "Who the hell are you?"

"Taz, a recent addition," I informed him.

"Why you wanna help me?"

"If it were my brother up there, I'd want all the help I could get,"

"Just don't get in my way," He said, as he breezed past me to go to what I assumed was his tent.

Till spoke up next to me, glaring at the ground, "So you're gonna go? For some man you don't even know? You're risking your fucking life!"

"I'm aware,"

He growled, "Of course you are!"

"And you're staying here,"

"What? The hell I am!"

"You. Are. Staying. Here."

"Why?" He ground out.

"These people need more than just Shane, and Dale here. And many more and we won't be able to move through the city without drawing the stiff's attention,"

"Whatever," He was surely pissed, but what I had said was true.

..!..

An hour later, I was sitting in a vehicle with four men I hardly knew. Peachy. And one kept muttering to himself about being stuck with "a bitch, a cop, a nigger, and a chink". I found it hilarious, but kept my laughter to myself. We had just made it into the city limits when I saw my beloved truck. I sighed and resisted the urge to press my face to the glass like a dog who was left at home.

"Did you have any supplies in your truck?" asked Rick.

"No. We used them all, and what we had left, we brought with us."

Rick sighed.

And the rest of the ride was in silence.

..!..

We had reached the building that Merle had been cuffed on quite easily, but there was one meager problem, Merle wasn't there. Well, not all of him at least. He had sawed his hand off in a last ditch effort to survive.

"Fuckin' crazy bastard," Daryl muttered, leaning over to pick up his brother's hand with a handkerchief, before stuffing it in Glenn's bag. I resisted the urge to ask Glenn if he needed a helping hand. I didn't think that would fly to well with Daryl.

"Well, come on, he couldn't have gotten to far," drawled Daryl.

And off we went, with our trusty redneck in the lead. We followed Merle's blood trail into a building where the smell of charred flesh and dried blood was still thick in the air. Daryl led us into a room which was once a kitchen.

"Fuck a duck. He cauterized his own hand?" I was taken aback. He cut off his own hand _and _cauterized it? Merle had to be the toughest bastard known to man, or the most persistent.

Daryl sighed and stormed out of the room and onto the stairwell, crossbow in hand. Glenn and Rick went to grab the guns. I followed directly behind the youngest Dixon, looking for signs of Merle the whole way. Daryl had started glancing into the windows on the doors, searching for anything that could help him find his brother. We went on till we reached the lobby, and there was definitely something.

A big something. A six foot tall, one handed something laying in front of an Aquafina machine with empty bottles around the something. Then the something groaned.

Daryl jogged over and crouched by his brother, "Merle?"

Daryl helped his sun-worn brother into a sitting position, and snatched an unopened water bottle off the ground.

"Drink this you, dumb bastard,"

Merle gave a hoarse chuckle, "Open it," he rasped, "One hand, can't do it,"

I stalked over to the brothers, "Pour one over his head. He's over-heated, it'll help,"

Daryl scoffed and dumped the water over his brother's head, "What are you, some kind of fuckin' doctor?"

I shrugged, "Marine Corps train you on emergency first aid,"

I knelt down next to Merle and gingerly lifted his hand, it was crusty and was already showing signs of infection.

He growled when I bumped the edge of the wound and his insult came out as a harsh cry, "Fuckin' bitch!"

"Shut up, I'm trying to help you," I said inspecting his wound, "Daryl, hand me another water,"

He did, and I poured the tepid water over Merle's stump, "We're going to have to get him back to camp...fast,"

Merle scoffed, voice raspy, "Then I can put my damn boot up that fuckin' pig's ass,"

I rolled my eyes, "You aren't in any shape to be kicking anyone's ass, Sasquatch, so cool your jets,"

Merle's head lolled my way, "Sasquatch? You're one to be talkin', ya fuckin' leprechaun,"

I growled. I knew I was short, but I hated having it thrown in my face. Looks like I'd have to get used to it.

"Let's get him up and meet up with Officer Friendly and Glenn," I offered.

Daryl just nodded and pulled his brother's arm over his shoulders and stood up.

"Need any help, tough guy?"

Daryl shot me a glare. I guess not.

We met up with the officer and Glenn, and Merle pitched a mild bitch fit. Well, maybe not mild, but it wasn't anything that Daryl couldn't handle. When we made it back to the van, we placed the delirious redneck in the back. The others made themselves comfortable around Merle and I took a seat at the back.

I took this time to search the man I had dubbed "Sasquatch" for more wounds. Of course the worse and most alarming was the stump where his hand had once resided. His head was clearly scorched from the harsh Atlanta sun. I placed my hand on his head to see if his temperature had dropped any.

"Get your fuckin' hands off me, ya dumb bitch," he growled.

"Shut your fucking mouth, ya dumb wop, I'm trying to save your life," I hissed.

He snorted and went to say something until his brother spoke up, "Shut up and let 'er help you, ya dumb sumbitch,"

I nodded my thanks to Daryl, which was acknowledged with a roll of the eyes. I sighed and resumed inspecting Merle's injuries. I looked up to see the man under inspection unconscious.

"Is there any way you can speed this up? Our little friend here just went down for the count," I informed them, with a tint of worry in my voice.

..!..

A/N: First order of business, Merle is OOC in this chapter. There is in fact a reason, and that would be Merle is delirious from the exposure. I've seen it before, and people are most definitively not their selves. Also, I took out the stand off with the Vatos, don't hate me for it xD I just couldn't fit it in with were I'm going in this story. By the way, this story will be exploring what I believe would happen with Merle present. (With Taz and Till, of course) Anyway, I received some pretty positive feedback so I'm going to assume this little FF has something going for it :) Soooo, I hope you enjoyed! Review, Subscribe, and all that jazz. Critique is welcomed xD


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